


Injured on the Job

by fuzipenguin



Series: The Oldest Profession [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Blood and Injury, Gen, hooker!Hound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sometimes his tricks are not as kind as others





	Injured on the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: ooooh. Hooker Hound with "who did this to you?", please? :D

               Hound turned a corner and rebounded off something hard which shouldn’t have been there. He staggered back a step with a grunt, arms flailing to regain purchase with the wall. 

               “Watch where you’re…” a deep bass voice trailed off and Hound shrunk in on himself. 

               “Bracket. I’m sorry, I should have been more careful, did I hurt you?” Hound questioned, keeping his helm lowered. The other mech had a temper and was easily provoked. And for a buy mech, he was very adverse to casual touches. 

               Bracket snorted disdainfully. “You barely bumped me… why are you acting like that?”

               “Like what?” Hound replied innocently and shuffled backwards a step. 

               “You’re not looking at me. I’m not going to hurt you, you know. Not unless you pay me to,” Bracket said with a mirthless chuckle. Hound took another step back. 

               “Seriously,” Bracket continued, sounding irritated. “What are you doing?” 

               Suddenly, there were firm fingers gripping his chin and lifting, despite Hound’s wordless protest. Bracket hissed, the fingers tightening briefly before loosening and sliding along his jaw to tilt Hound’s head toward the corridor light. 

               “No wonder you bumped into me,” Bracket remarked, his other hand coming up and probing under Hound’s cracked right optic socket. “Can you see at all?”

               Hound startled to tremble at the surprisingly light touch. “A little. Shadows mostly,” he admitted, straining to see Bracket’s face, but only getting a staticky image which made his processor hurt. 

               “They’ll need replaced,” Bracket said decisively, digits probing at Hound’s other optic. Fingers then trailed down to trace along Hound’s smashed nasal ridge and split lip. “Who did this to you?”

               “What does it even matter?” Hound replied, an uncommon note of bitterness filling his voice. Then he immediately sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snap at you; weren’t even there.”

               Bracket was silent for a long moment. “You’re a weird mech, you know that?”

               Hound’s lips twisted into a smile, despite himself. “Yes, I’ve been told that before.”

               The other mech’s hands fell away and Hound felt their loss keenly. It was so rare to be touched without expectation. 

               “I can be.” 

               Hound tilted his head to the side in confusion. “What?”

               “I can be. There. Or, nearby anyway. For your next job,” Bracket offered hesitantly. 

               Hound’s hand came up and touched his face. “That won’t be for a while,” he said, already dreading the medic costs. “And thank you for your offer, but what could you do?”

               Hound felt the warmth from Bracket’s frame move. “I can beat the bolts out of the next trick that tries to hurt you like this,” Bracket growled, engine revving aggressively. “Promise me you’ll call if you need help.” 

               Spark giving an odd little flip in his casing, Hound reached out and carefully patted Bracket’s chest. This was honestly the closest he’d ever been to the volatile mech since he’d arrived. Despite the enraged spikiness of Bracket’s field, Hound found himself strangely comforted. “I promise.”

 

~ End


End file.
